A Little Bit In Love
by NoStoryLeftUntold
Summary: Oneshots and drabbles for the pairing of SarahxJack, because they don't get enough love in this fandom. Rating may change.
1. Hungry

Sarah couldn't imagine what it must be like to be hungry, like Jack. She didn't want to, either, and was glad her family just made enough money to scrape by. Unlike Jack. There were times when she'd see him, and he'd look so miserable, but he always put up a façade around her, like nothing was ever wrong in the first place.

She had told him time and time again that he was welcome to eat dinner at their place, but she knew he didn't like to do it that often. It wasn't that he didn't like the Jacobs, because really, they were the closest thing he had to a family besides the newsies, but to him it was like taking charity. Sarah knew Jack; he was arrogant and egotistical (that was something she really adored about him, though it could be exasperating) and wouldn't take charity. Not if it made him look weak.

"Jack, it's ridiculous!" She had yelled at him one day as they walked down the busy streets of Manhattan. "You're letting your pride getting in the way of your health! If you don't eat something soon…"

"Who said anything about my pride?" Jack said, swiping an apple from a street vendor. He bit into it and offered Sarah a bite.

"No," She said. "You need the food, I swear every time you hold me your ribs stab at me like swords or something."

Jack laughed, but she could only sigh in frustration.

"Don't you see, Jack?!" She asked angrily. "This isn't a joke! If you don't get a proper meal soon…"

He immediately quieted down and refused to look at her. Sarah stopped and took his hand, staring at him with a mixture of love and sympathy, regretting yelling at him at once.

"I care about you," She said softly. "Jack, you mean so much to me, and you don't know how much it hurts to see you get weaker every day just because you can't get over yourself and eat some of our extra food. Just come and have dinner with us, just for tonight, please?"

Jack turned around and gave her a small grin. He took another bite of the apple and swallowed it down.

"Sure, Sarah," He said. "If it really means that much to you…"

He staggered back as she jumped on him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Thank you!" She cried happily.

"Yeah, well…" He laughed and kissed her on the cheek. "Just don't expect me to be there every night, okay?"

Jack Kelly didn't mind being hungry; it was something he had dealt with his entire life. He could handle his stomach growling in the middle of the night, and besides, it wouldn't be fair to the other newsies if he spent every night at the Jacobs residence, eating their food and imposing on them. Of course, they insisted he come as often as he could, however, he didn't think it would be polite. Jack didn't think about what was polite much, but he didn't want to give anyone the impression he was only there for the free food. He was another mouth to feed to a family that didn't have much money to begin with, and he didn't want to be the reason Les didn't get what he wanted for his birthday because they spent the extra money buying a little more because he was going to be at the table.

But if Sarah insisted…to be utterly honest, Jack really did love her, but sometimes she was a bit too worried about him. Didn't she think he could deal with being hungry? Sure, her heart was in the right place, but still…

Walking hand in hand with his girlfriend to the Jacobs' residence, Jack forgot all of his thoughts as soon as he smelled the delicious scent of stew wavering in the air. Maybe taking charity wouldn't be so bad…just for tonight.


	2. Dust

Santa Fe was full of dust. Full of land and space and desert, full of cowboys and miners and outlaws, but the dust outnumbered all of these. The dust just hung in the air; it gave a strange, timeless feeling to everything that he couldn't resist.

Manhattan had no dust. Everything was moving and too busy; everyone in too much of a rush. The unmistakable feeling you'd get in Santa Fe didn't exist in Manhattan. Manhattan was always with the now, always the first to hear about everything and to try out everything. He wasn't sure he liked that.

Manhattan was new and modern, but Santa Fe was old and rusty. They were two very different places, with thousands of miles in between.

Jack had always loved Santa Fe more than Manhattan, even though he'd never been there, simply because Manhattan was the place he had lived his entire life, and who wants to waste their life staying in exactly the same spot?

Sarah did. He'd seen the sad look in her eyes, whenever he brought up mention of the place he planned to go as soon as they married. Of course, they'd talked about this all the time. Eventually Sarah agreed that's where they'd go to, but she was leaving behind friends and family, so it was reasonable she looked sad. Jack probably would have been concerned if she wasn't.

Not that he wasn't concerned now. He'd do anything for Sarah's happiness, but time and time again he had to stop and ask himself if that were true. Would he give up his dream for her?

He knew that she didn't want him to. When he mentioned _not _going to Santa Fe just to make her happy, she jumped up and told him he deserved to have his dreams come true for once. He remembered what she said loud and clear.

_"Don't give up your dreams just for me, Jack," She said, nearly pleading. "I don't want to be the reason you're stuck here all your life."_

There were a few moments Jack considered leaving her in Manhattan. Not because he didn't love her, because he did, but he just couldn't imagine a girl like Sarah living in a place with all that dust. She was a city girl; the kind of person who enjoyed the hustle and bustle only New York had to offer. The dust would wear her down, and he didn't want to see that happen.

And now that Jack thought about, now that he really sat down and got his mind together on the whole thing, he wasn't sure he wanted to leave David or Les or the rest of the newsies either. They were his family, and he couldn't go about leaving them behind, could he? What about ten years later? Would he return to find everyone had forgotten him, that everyone had moved on and Jack Kelly was a memory lost to the dust?

Santa Fe had been a story Jack told himself when he was little to help him sleep through the night, when he couldn't get the haunting picture of his dead mom out of his head. Santa Fe was a place she'd always wanted to go, and she would sit him on her knee and tell him exciting stories about cowboys and outlaws and the town sheriff. Everything about those old western stories enchanted him, and now he supposed they were no different than the fairy tales of knights and castles and princesses Sarah's mother used to tell her.

It hurt to grow up. Growing up was something Jack didn't want to do, but he knew he had to if he wanted to keep Sarah by his side. He knew if he wanted her to stay with him, to be with him for the rest of his life because he felt that she was the only one who pulled him together, then he had to. He'd have to give up the dust and the stories and the dream.

But, looking back at all his friends—no, his family—he doesn't regret it now, not for a second. They, he thinks, are worth it. He sees Sarah, walking down the aisle, holding her father's arm and a bouquet of roses and looking like a princess, and he knows it.

He knows now dust can't hold a candle to what Manhattan has to offer.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm nervous about posting this one, because 1. people will be mad at me for having Jack give up Santa Fe, and 2. this idea is incredibly cliché, but I had to do it. I really tried my best to make the transformation as believable as possible, but I'm not sure I pulled it off that well. Reviews with constructive criticism are nice!

SJ


	3. Sledding

Sarah stood at the edge of the slope, Jack's coat around her shivering shoulders, staring at the sled as Les jumped on it. Letting out a cry of joy, her youngest brother slid all the way down the hill and tumbled into the snow as soon as the sled stopped. She took a small step back, trying to ignore the bitter cold biting at her face and hands. Sarah didn't like to admit it, but she was a bit frightened. The hill was so steep, and the sled went so fast...she couldn't imagine how any of it could be fun.

"C'mon, Sarah!" Jack called from the bottom of the slope, helping Les up. "Give it a try! It'll be fun!"

"No thanks!" Sarah called back. She watched as her boyfriend took the sled and carried it up the hill. "Are you sure you aren't cold? It's freezing."

"Nah, I'm fine." Jack said. He grinned, reaching the top. Jack knew how much Sarah could worry, but it didn't bother him. In fact, he thought it was sweet. But he didn't understand why she wouldn't sled. It was the same hill Jack had sledded down nearly every snow day of his life and he was completely fine. Besides, it was a long way there from Manhattan, a few miles to walk (David wasn't allowed to go because he caught a cold), and he hated to see her let all the snow and the opportunity for fun go to waste.

"C'mon!" He grabbed her hand, nearly dragging her over to the sled. She at least had to try, he decided.

"Wait, Jack!" Sarah cried in protest. But now they were standing at the sled, and Les was still at the bottom, cheering them on.

"Don't worry about it." He said, whispering into her ear. "Don't think about crashing. I'll be with you the entire time." Sarah looked up at him, her expression of fear changing to a small smile.

"Really?"

"Really." Jack grinned. Sarah took a deep breath and climbed in. Jack got in next, sitting right behind her. Her cheeks turned a shade of pink when he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she thanked to God he couldn't see that.

"Now," He said. He pushed off against the ground, and the sled started. Sarah held her breath, closing her eyes, and waited for something to go wrong...as soon as the cold wind hit her face, rushing past her with Jack yelling, she opened them. They were hurtling down the hill, so fast she could hardly believe it, it felt like they were flying!

"Oh my goodness!" She cried. She heard Jack laugh, and felt the sled gain speed. They were halfway to the bottom, now...

Suddenly, the sled hit a hole in the ground and came out from underneath them. Sarah gasped, and Jack's arms pulled tighter around her, as if to protect her. They hit the ground and the cold snow, tumbling until she ended up on top of him at the bottom of the slope. They were both out of breath, staring at eachother until Jack smiled again.

"So, how'd you like that?" He asked. Sarah laughed.

"That was the most fun I've ever had in my life!" She cried. Jack cracked up, barely able to contain himself. He knew she'd love it! He kissed her, propping himself up holding her close.

"You guys!" Les yelled. He had been watching the entire time. "That's gross! C'mon, I want a turn now!"

Jack and Sarah broke apart, both of them smiling, and looked over at Les. Sarah climbed off of Jack, standing up and brushing the snow off as he did the same.

"Let's all go then," She picked up the sled. "Together this time." She paused, the two staring at her expectantly. Then she smirked, starting to head up the hill.

"Last one to the top gets to ride in back!" She cried, breaking out into a run.

Jack and Les yelled behind her, shouting choruses of "That's not fair!" and "Sarah, slow down!". She laughed, slowing down to at least let Les catch up. She loved sledding, she decided, and couldn't wait to ride down the slope again.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry I haven't updated in so long, anyone who reads this. I've been incredibly busy, but I promise there will be more updates soon. I thought of this while watching Newsies again for the sixth time this morning, and the idea was too cute to pass up. Reviews with constructive criticism are nice!

SJ


	4. Stories

The old man liked to tell stories.

Mallory wasn't sure if they were true or not; the people at the front desk told her this guy was going senile. After all, he had told her his name was Jack Kelly when his name was actually Francis Sullivan. But she was definately sure the stories were entertaining. When the sixteen year old had first been given the sentence of community service, after getting into some serious trouble with the police, she decided she'd volunteer at the nursing home up the street from where she lived. After all, what could be so bad about taking care of some old geezers for a couple of weeks?

But Mallory found now she came by just to hear those stories. Her community service had ended weeks ago, and now she was let in as a guest. She came every afternoon after school, begging the man in the wheelchair for another one. Mr. Kelly (he wouldn't let her call him Mr. Sullivan) told her plenty; about his adventures as a 'newsie' (they weren't around anymore, apparently, because now there was the delivery boy to sell people's papers) growing up in Manhattan. Manhattan sounded so different now in 1970 than what it used to be when he was a kid.. Apparently back when he was her age people were riding in carriages instead of cars.

Her favorite story, the one she asked him to repeat the most, was the story about the strike. She had learned about the exact same strike, the Newsboy's Strike of '99, back in the seventh grade, but somehow it seemed more exciting when he was telling it than when she read it out of a textbook. She would continue to feel herself get angry when Pulitzer raised the prices of the papers, and when the newsies won she sometimes found herself cheering. Mr. Kelly certainly had a knack for story-telling.

She felt as if she personally knew Spot Conlon and Racetrack and even the Delancey brothers, although she had only heard of them in his stories and they were all dead now. But whenever she asked about the old woman in the bed beside his, barely alive and on life support, he would go real quiet. Mallory only knew her name, Sarah Sullivan, and she knew she was his wife. She knew that whenever he saw his wife like that, his heart would break, because of the look he got in his eyes. The only other time she saw that look in someone's eyes is when she saw them in her mother's whenever remembering her dead father, who had died before Mallory was old enough to remember.

But there was one day she came by, and Sarah was no longer in the bed. Mallory couldn't believe it, even though she had never spoken to the woman something inside of her suddenly felt extremely sad, as if she had lost a close friend. She knew the elderly woman was dead, even though no one had told her.

And there was Mr. Kelly, sitting in his wheelchair by the window where he always was.

"I'm sorry," Mallory choked out, finding that was all she could say. She had no idea how to comfort the man who had just lost the love of his life.

"I suppose you want to hear her story." Mr. Kelly said, not turning around to look at the young girl. Mallory felt herself taken aback, she had expected him to tell her to leave, or to cry, but...not this. She was unsure of how to reply, would he be offended if she said yes? She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Actually, yeah," Mallory said. "That would be nice."

Everything was silent for a few moments. Mallory turned around to leave, obviously he wasn't going to say anything--

"I met her the same day I met David and Les," He said. "She was their sister. I met her when they brought me back to their house. And from the moment I saw her..." he trailed off.

Mallory felt relieved, he was still all right, and sat down in an armchair in the corner. It was the same armchair she had sat in every time he told a story, but for some reason now it felt strange and uncomfortable.

"There was something about her. Sarah was great...she was kind, and loving, and she didn't care. She didn't care I was just a newsie with nothing to offer..."

This story was different from the others. It wasn't just a story...it was someone's life. It was Sarah's life.

The old man liked to tell stories, even now when his wife was gone and he was all alone. He had loved her so much, and now she was dead. Everything dies, Mallory knew, the plants die and the day dies and people die. But when Mallory walked home that night, she was sure of one thing.

Love doesn't.


	5. Breathe

Sometimes, in the dead of night, just the sound of her breathing calmed him.

It had always struck him how peaceful she looked when she slept, how nice it must be to never have nightmares and just sleep. He had nightmares all the time, especially now when the birth of their kid (that scared him so much) was just around the corner. What kind of a dad would he be? He had this fear deep down inside of him he'd turn out to be just like�his father--no, she said. No, that won't happen.

And when he couldn't sleep, because doing so ment nightmares or because his thoughts and fears kept him awake, the sound of her breathing made him relax. It was like some kind of spell, it brought him back to reality, that no matter what happened, she would always be there beside him.

It always seemed as though the world would stand still then, just for them, and he would hear the soft sounds of her breathing in and out, and he knew everything would just fine.

�

* * *

�

**A/N: **After four chapters, you would have thought I would do a drabble sooner. This is actually one of my first drabbles, and I'm really not sure if it's good or not / Please tell me if it sounds stalkerish or creepy. I tried to make it as fluffy and as sweet as I could. It would be much appreciated if you'd review telling me your thoughts (: Thanks!

SJ


	6. On the Roof

**A/N: **Quick note (everything belongs to Disney)--this is my version of the rooftop scene. I was inspired to write this for two reasons: first of all, Sarah's poor characterization shone right through here. I'm not claiming to be a better writer than the people who wrote Newsies, but I'm just trying to capture who I think Sarah really is better. Second of all, has anyone seen Meet the Robinsons? When Lewis was on the roof, on the wall thing that connected the door to the stairs, there was 'SARAH ANDJACK' scrawled on there. I took it as a nod to Newsies, although it probably wasn't. How those names got to be there is a oneshot for another time. Reviews are REALLY appreciated,especially since I think I may have screwed up Jack's character.Now, I present my version of the rooftop scene (:

* * *

Sarah's eyes fluttered as she shifted between that place you go when you sleep to reality, a strange dream (it made her blush to think about) echoeing inside her head. It had Jack in it, and she was talking to him. In fact, it was nearly identicle to the conversation she'd had with him a couple days ago while waiting for David and Les, except this time...she had _kissed _him square on the lips. Fortunately, that's where the dream had ended. Sarah had no idea where that dream had come from...she'd always sort of _admired _Jack, and she couldn't deny he was handsome and charming, but...she could never do something as bold as kissing him, especially in public. Even if kissing him was something she really wanted to--

'No,' She thought, shaking the dream out of her head. 'It's just...just infatuation! That's it.'

Sarah sat up and stretched her arms, breathing in the fresh morning air wafting in through the open window.

Wait. She didn't leave the window open last night. Climbing out of bed, she went to the window and poked her head out. There, on the fire escape, sat Jack. He was sleeping, snoring in fact, and looked rather peaceful. Sarah had to try even harder to forget about her dream now. She smiled to herself.

"Jack?" She called softly. He let out a grunt, but didn't wake. "Did you sleep out there all night?" Sarah said, louder this time.

"Huh?" Jack jerked awake, looking in both directions until he spotted Sarah. He grinned the in the same cocky way he usually did. "Yeah."

"You could've woken one of us up, you know." She said. She smiled back, a small pang of guilt in her stomach for letting him sleep on the dirty, uncomfortable fire escape all night.

"Well, I didn't want to disturb nobody." He stood up and grimaced, muscles aching from sleeping in an odd position. He climbed closer to Sarah's window, hands on the sill, so now their faces were inches away. She couldn't help it, she felt her cheeks grow warm. "'Sides, it's like the Waldorf out here. Great view," He gestured at the tall buildings. If he noticed her blushing, he didn't say a thing. "Cool air."

Suddenly, an idea popped into Sarah's mind. She leaned back a little, so she would be more comfortable, and shot him an accusing look.

"Did...did you watch me when I slept?" She asked. He raised his eyebrows, but nodded.

"Yeah, actually. Sorry if it disturbed you...you just look awful pretty when you sleep."

If Sarah had been blushing before, she was sure her entire face was glowing red now. She was taken aback, he thought she was _pretty_? And then, she felt a bit strange for being a tad hostile when he was just paying her a compliment.

"Sorry," She said promptly. "I just--"

"Don't worry about it." Jack said. They sat like that for a few moments, staring at eachother, and Sarah was unsure of what to say or do. She was a bit unsure of what to make of all that...no one had ever told her she was pretty before besides her family, because that was what family was supposed to say. She wanted to continue to talk, but not here, they might wake her parents. Then, she smiled.

"Go up to the roof, I'll meet you there." She stood, lingering for a moment toreturn the smile he gave her, and headed for the kitchen. No doubt he was hungry.Takinga basket, she grabbed the bread and two bottles of milk and put them inside. She didn't have the time to make anything big, like bacon and eggs (did they even have bacon and eggs? Could they even afford that anymore?). She dressed, nothing too fancy since she had to go to the factory today anyways, and headed up to the roof.

As she climbed up the ladder, she could see Jack throwing a few punches at the laundry. She smiled and reached thetop, climbing over the ledge andputting her basket on the ground.

"Jack, are you hungry?" She said. He turned around and grinned.

"Yeah."

"Good," Sarah held up the basket of food. "I made you breakfast."

She walked over to the table, grabbed a sheet and substituting it for a tablecloth. She set down the basket and took the bread, breaking it in two and giving the other half to Jack. He took a bite, chewing as if he hadn't had a decent meal in ages, which she knew he most likely hadn't.

"You're a lifesaver, Sarah." Jack swallowed it down and grinned twice as large as before, sitting down in a chair.

"You're welcome." She smiled, setting out the milk bottles, and sat down as well. "You know, Papa's really proud of what you and David are doing. You should hear him, boasting about Jack Kelly, the strike leader who occasionally takes his meals with us. I'm proud of you too, for taking a stand. What you're doing..." She shrugged. "I don't know if I could've done that. It's unfair you should have to pay extra for the paper just because Mr. Pulitzer's a little greedy."

"Well," He gave her a small smile, somehow different from his other grins, and leaned back in his seat. "This is one strike leader who's gonna be very happy when it's all over and I can get outta here and go to Santa Fe."

Santa Fe? Sarah looked up at him in confusion. She'd heard of him speak about it before, she knew it was somewhere he wanted to go, but it wasn't until now that the fact began to sink in.

"I mean, there's nothing for me to stay for, is there?" He spoke again, and she felt her heart plummet. Oh. So he didn't think of her in that way. She stood up and walked over to the edge, looking down at the people walking below. "You know, you should see Santa Fe." Jack said. "Everything''s different there. It's all bigger. The desert, the sky...the sun."

Sarah turned around, forcing a smile.

"It sounds great." She said. "Maybe I'd like to go there some time."

"Maybe you can. Visit me, you know." He stood and walked over, next to her. "You and David and Les. I can teach you to ride a horse."

"Do _you _know how to ride a horse?" She looked at him, eyebrows raised. He laughed, shaking his head.

"Nah, I don't, but by the time you visit me I probably will. I'm gonna be a cowboy, you know."

Everything was silent, and it was...well, awkward. Sarah's mind wandered, drifting back and forth between Jack and Santa Fe, where the sun was supposedly bigger. Then she realized, hearing a factory whistle blow, she was late. Stepping back, she smiled in an apologetic way.

"I should get ready for work. It was nice to talk to you, Jack." She turned to leave, gathering the basket.

"Sarah?"

She turned around, seeing his back was still to her.

"I'm just not used to having whether I stay or whether I go matter to anybody." He said. Sarah frowned, she couldn't imagine how that must feel. She knew if something happened to her, if she suddenly up and left, her family would be devastated. "I'm just saying..." He turned around, a strange and desperate look in his eyes. Sarah wasn't used to seeing that from him, and it made her uncomfortable. "Well, does it? Matter?" He looked at her, expecting an answer.

Sarah found it hard. She swallowed back a lump forming in her throat and put down the basket.

"I...yes. It does matter." She nodded. "It matters a lot. We care about you, Jack, you're like family...but if you want to go to Santa Fe, you shouldn't let us stop you." She paused, speaking the truth. Jack looked slightly surprised, as if the word _family_ had taken him aback. Then he smiled.

"Thanks, Sarah." He said.

"For what?"

"For..." He shrugged and looked away. "For being a great friend. If I stayed here, it'd probably be 'cause of you."

Sarah felt her heart melt, and she was smiling wider than she had in a long time. She was worth staying for? At the same time, a part of her felt guilty for maybe being the reason he gave up his dream.

"That means a lot, Jack." She said softly. They stood in silence, a much more comfortable one, when she realized she _really _had to leave.

"I--I'm sorry. I got work, and..." She frowned, gripping the basket. Jack nodded.

"Yeah, of course you do. We all gotta make a livin'."

She smiled, one last time, and did something she wouldn't have had the nerve to half an hour ago...she gave him a kiss on the cheek. She stepped back and waved.

"Goodbye." She said.

"Yeah, seeya." His hand rose to the place on his cheek she had kissed him, but Sarah didn't see. She had turned around, already climbing backdown the ladder. Thank God she had waited to blush until he couldn't see her any more. Buteven as she made her way to the factory, where it was hot and uncomfortable and smelled rotten, everything seemed different. Better. Bigger, like the way Jack had described Santa Fe.

It was then she thought, maybe, it wasn't just infatuation.


End file.
